Blood Spattered Brothers
by Luludiamol
Summary: Bob Sheldon did not lose his life on that fateful night. With help from his brother, a Miskatonic Medical School dropout, he was able to lose so much more. And what have they done to Ponyboy? "Nothing rests in peace in Dr. Sheldon's house of horrors."
1. Chapter 1

Summary

Bob Sheldon did not lose his life on that fateful night. With the help of his brother, a Miskatonic Medical School dropout, he was able to lose so much more. "Nothing rests in peace in Dr Sheldon's house of horrors."

**Authors note**

**The best way I could think of describing this is if that junior high had petitioned Brian De Palma or Dario Argento to make a film based on The Outsiders instead of Francis Ford Coppola. Things get a little crazy, melodramatic and bloody in this version. Bob and Darry may also get a little out of character on this one**

**Also, be warned, about 2 character deaths in this one.**

**The Outsiders and its characters belong to S E Hinton. I own nothing.**

**I also don't own any of the elements I borrow from H P Lovecraft's The Re-Animator including Miskatonic University. The character Greg is based loosely on someone who may have assisted Herbert West in his later years. Of course I am going with his incarnation from the 1922 novella. If I went with the 1985 movie I think Herbert West would be about 5 years old at the time this story takes place. I did borrow some elements from the film as well so I must also mention that the movie Re-Animator is the property of its producers. It is also not mine.**

**Frankenstein also does not belong to me.**

**And, yeah, the medical stuff may be a little off here. **

**Parsons is mine (hey, I own something).**

Chapter 1

The streets were eerily quiet as Bob drove the mustang back home. The only sound was the rumbling of the engine.

What the hell did they do?

"They."

That was funny.

"They" were only doing what he wanted them to do.

Question really was ….What the hell did he do?

Why the hell did he do it?

Yeah, he was talking to Cherry.

Yeah, that made him mad.

When he asked what she was doing with him, her response made it worse.

"He reminded me of you Bob! How you used to be before…."

"Before what, Cherry? Before what?"

She turned away from him.

"Forget it Bob. Just forget it, " she said in a defeated tone. "Just take me home."

He had Randy do as she wished but his blood was boiling.

Randy was having his own debate with Marcia. Apparently she had made a similar request.

Bob knew what Cherry was talking about.

Before.

Before mom was sent away to be treated for her "problem." Though if asked he was told to say she was visiting his ill Aunt Sylvia. Aunt is apparently still ill. Could be worse. Could have been told she had "passed on."

Before Dad was never home. Always out on business. Lecture tours. Guest teaching at this university or that. Think he was in Switzerland last time anyone bothered to tell him where he was.

Oh, and before _he _came home from medical school.

Didn't graduate.

Just left.

"There was nothing more they could teach me."

His parents were gone and Frankenstein was back. Living in Dad's old office. Doing God knows what.

Occasionally he would hear a crash, or a scream of a tortured animal.

It got too much.

So he drowned it out. All of it. With a little help from Johnny Walker.

Cherry didn't like it. She let him know that. Never let him forget that.

Then that kid came along and reminded her of what he used to be. All of the good. None of the bad.

Couldn't have that.

So, Bob, with a little help from his friends, took care of that.

Which is how the kid wound up in his trunk.


	2. Chapter 2

Bob pulled into the parking lot of his dad's old office. The office was situated in the back of the house. House was big enough that people would go in and out of that office in the back and you would never know it if you were in the front. He got out of the car and ran to the office door.

He banged.

No answer.

Banged louder.

The door opened to reveal Frankenstein himself. Greg.

Greg had the same dark hair and black eyes as Bob. That was where the similarities ended. Where Bob was average size with a medium build Greg was tall and lanky.

"Greg, I need your help."

Greg looked around suspiciously.

"Where are your minions?"

"I sent them away."

Greg raised his eyebrows.

"Alright. What is it?"

"The trunk. Hurry."

Greg followed Bob as he ran to the mustang.

Bob popped the trunk and revealed the unconscious body of a teenage boy. He had peeked Greg's interest.

"Is he…?"

"I don't know."

"Bring him in."

"I need help."

"No you don't, " Greg dismissed as he turned to walk back to the office. "He's not that big."

Bob reached in and picked him up. To his surprise and slight dismay, the kid was light enough for Bob to carry himself.

"Bring him to the main lab. First door on the right."

Once inside, Bob obeyed and laid him down on the examination table. Under the harsh fluorescents he could see how pale blue his skin was. He could also see how young he was.

He watched Greg checked his pulse. Pried open the eyelids and flashed a penlight into each one. Started CPR.

Bits and pieces from the night replayed in his head.

"Bob! Bob stop!"

"He's not moving."

"Where's his friend?"

"Taken care of."

"Everyone! In the car! Now!"

"The kid…."

"In the trunk! PUT THE KID IN THE TRUNK! GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR! NOW"

As they all drove back to their side of town, the more they sobered up, the more hysterical everyone got.

"I knew that kid. He's on the track team!"

"We killed him!"

"What are we gonna do?"

Bob slammed the brakes.

"Everyone! Out of the car! I'll fix this!"

"How?"

"Listen to me, " he said, everyone huddled close around him inside the mustang. His eyes met every frightened pair of eyes that looked upon him. "Go home. As far as you all know we roughed up a couple of greasers and left them there."

"But…" Randy started to interject.

"We left them there!" Bob shot him a glance so intense it looked like Randy was about to shit his pants right there. He met everyone else's gaze. No one else was going to argue.

He hoped they would all stick to the story.

Greg was still working over the kid. Bob watched as he pumped and pumped the kid's chest. There appeared to be no response from the kid at all. Greg went back and pumped harder, put his head to the chest for a second, and let out a frustrated grunt. Finally he stopped and caught his breath.

He looked over at Bob.

"He's gone."

Bob swallowed to keep his face from crumpling.

"Gone."

Greg thinned his lips and nodded. He scrunched his brow and looked at Bob quizzically.

"Friend of yours?"

"No."

That seemed to add up in Greg's mind. Then it looked like he was doing more mental calculation as he looked at Bob. Probably trying to figure out if Bob decided to save some unfortunate random person he found or if Bob had another reason to have a stake in this person's welfare. Greg appeared to have his answer.

"Oh."

Greg turned back to the dead boy on the table.

Bob felt his blood turn to ice. He was not sure if he was going to throw up or pass out or both.

This was not supposed to happen.

Rough up the kid. Yeah.

Teach him to not talk to Cherry or any other girl from the west side. Yes.

But not this.

The more sober Bob became, the more he realized how young this greaser actually was. He didn't even look like he shaved yet.

He told Randy and his friends he would fix this. That's when he thought maybe the kid was alive. Maybe Greg would know something he didn't.

But how would he fix _this_?

"I'm gonna be sick." Bob went to run to the pail but Greg, without moving his gaze from the boy, picked up the small garbage pail under the examination table and shoved it at Bob. Bob proceeded to fill it with the contents of his stomach.

When he was done he looked over at Greg, who was examining the body and muttering to himself.

"No head trauma, that's good. Nasty bruise here, real nasty, but can work with it. He's young, juvenile…they tend to recover faster from injury in general. We just lost him….still within that time frame window in any case…"

Greg looked over at Bob with a gleam in his eye.

"I can help you."

Bob furrowed his brow. Help him what? Bury the body? Get out of town?

"I'll need a pint of your blood…"

Bob made a face and recoiled.

"For what? This greaser? No way!"

Greg turned around and walked over to Bob. He picked him up by the collar and brought him up to his eye level.

"Time is of the essence here so I will be quick."

"Dad is in Switzerland."

"Mom is 'away' taking care of Aunt Sylvia."

"You killed a kid."

"You could try to hide the body but you know one of your friends will crack and you're eighteen now sunshine so you will be executed once convicted.

"If you do get a hot shot lawyer to get you off this kid's family will find you and do things to you that would make you wish you had a death sentence.

"Considering your options, Robert, opening your vein for the benefit of a poor little dead boy hardly seems like a sacrifice, does it?"

Bob could only respond with a sullen stare.

Son of a bitch was right.

Son of a bitch was always right.

Bob grudgingly rolled up the sleeve of his madras shirt.


	3. Chapter 3

It was as if a starting gun had been fired.

Greg tore open the drawers in the examining room. He took something out, looked at Bob's arm, massaged, slapped, massaged, poked the needle in.

"Ow!"

"Shut up."

Satisfied that red filled the clear tube, Greg clipped part of the tube, ran to a different part of the lab, came back with more stuff, including a bottle of liquid that looked like it glowed in the dark.

Bob's eyes widened at the prospect of his brother injecting him with that stuff. He looked away. At this point he did not want to know what would happen next.

As he stared at the wall he heard more banging and shuffling.

_My blood? Why the hell does he need my blood for whatever the hell he's doing?_

Bob knew why though; one of his best memories of his brother.

"_Bobby, come here a sec."_

"_Yeah." Bob responded. Pleasantly surprised his brother was paying attention to him. He was eight at the time. Greg was fourteen. He still cared._

"_Hold out your hand a sec."_

"_What-ow!" he felt a jab of the needle. He tried to pull his hand away but Greg held on and squeezed a few drops into a test tube and left the room. _

"_Thanks Bobby."_

_Minutes later he walked back in._

"_Good news, you're O negative." He announced. "Means you can give blood to anyone and it won't kill them. Cool huh?"_

Part of Bob was so grateful Greg got beaten up so bad the next week that his parents sent him to prep school somewhere in the northeast.

Bob looked down at the needle in his arm. The blood flowed in the catheter leading to something he couldn't see. Then another tube went into the boy's arm. His eyes drifted up to the boy's head where another tube extended out the back of his head which was connected to a large syringe with the neon yellow liquid being slowly pushed in by Greg.

Greg looked briefly at Bob then went back to what he was doing.

"So, " Greg spoke not moving his eyes from the syringe, carefully watching the amount going in. "What did this kid do that pissed you off so much?"

"He didn't do anything, " Bob said looking at the ceiling. "Just a piece of trash greaser. That's all."

"Liar."

"He's nothing. A piece of garbage society would be better off without."

"If he was nothing then what motivated you to kill him with your bare hands?" Greg asked innocently. "Motivates you to speak of him with such venom?"

"No, " he continued. "This isn't just some kid you jumped for kicks. This one was something special." An evil grin formed on Greg's otherwise placid features.

Bob turned his head to the wall. Suddenly fascinated in all the test tubes and beakers on the shelf in front of him.

"What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"Liar."

Bob let out a loud sigh. Greg knew. Greg always knew.

"I think Cherry said his name was Ponyboy. Ponyboy Curtis."

"Ponyboy Curtis, " Greg repeated the name. Trying to place it. "Ponyboy Curtis. Oh yeah. His parents died in a car crash last year."

"How do you know his life story?" Bob asked turning his head back to Greg. He still had not moved.

"Touching obituary. I remember reading it in the local paper waiting for Dad to pick me up at the train station."

"You read the obituaries?"

"Every so often, " Greg shrugged. Eyes still on the needle and catheter. "Besides it was my first day back in town after almost ten years. Had to catch up on all my local news."

"And you remembered this one?"

"How do you forget a name like Ponyboy?"

"Weirdo." Bob sighed.

"Perhaps, but at least I didn't kill an orphan."

Bob winced.

Just then a black cat wandered in. Greg looked down briefly, then back up at the syringe and gave it a slight push.

"Well hello Mr. Skittles. Bob, meet one of my success stories."

"Mr Skittles? Randy's mom's old cat?" Bob was surprised. This cat was around since before Greg left town. "He's been missing for months. They figured he was dead."

"He was."

The cat hissed at Greg. Then left.

"He's been in a nasty mood since he 'came back'. Don't know why." He stopped for a beat. "May have to do with his demise. It was more….violent then the others." He trailed off, then his face artificially brightened. " Good news is that seems to be the only side effect."

"Maybe the cat just has good taste, " Bob said dryly.

"Funny. "

Greg clipped the catheter and placed the syringe on a tray behind him . He looked over at Bob's arm, pushed a little on the needle, then stood up and walked to the drawer and fished out a square of gauze. He placed the gauze on top of the needle in bob's arm, pushed down and pulled out the needle.

"That's it."

Bob unconsciously bent his arm up at the elbow and held the gauze in the crook of his elbow.

"Why did you need my blood?"

"More living human element. " Greg explained. "It's a live organ. I started using live donors when I came back. When I just used the serum on the first cat I tried it went for my throat."

Bob just shook his head and winced a little in revulsion. He then looked at Ponyboy.

"Will it work on him?"

"Don't know." Greg answered as he sat down, unclipped the catheter and gave the syringe another push. "First human subject."

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Bob asked standing up. Feeling a little woozy he sat back down.

"You fry and I get a new mustang, " Greg deadpanned not even bothering to look up.

"Mustang's not mine. " Bob bitterly giggled. "It's Randy's."

"What happened to yours?"

"Smashed it up a month ago."

"And Randy lets you drive his?"

"Trusts me."

"That'll get him killed one day."

Bob just gave Greg a look.

Just then Ponyboy's eyes flew open.

Bob jumped up. Panic pushing him out the door.

Holy Crap! What if he remembered?

Bob ran as fast as he could out the door but before he could get much further he blacked out and fell flat on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Darry gripped the arm of the recliner as he kept his eyes on the door.

_He's on his way home. He's alive. He's on his way home._

He could feel his brother Sodapop's eyes bore into him. He knew one false move, one wrong word, and his baby brother would sprint out the door again.

He remembered the phone call that was his salvation.

"Could I please speak with Darrel Curtis Jr.?"

"Speaking."

"I'll make this brief. Considering the late hour and the fact that you haven't hung up on me or insulted my mother I'll assume the young man who has stumbled upon my property belongs to you."

"Ponyboy?"

"Is that Darry?" he could hear a familiar voice on the other end and let himself breath a sigh of relief.

"Sure, now you tell me his name after I woke up Abraham and Bartholomew, " he heard the other voice mutter, then say a loud irritated "Yes!"

"If that's Darry tell him I never want to speak to him again – ever!"

"If only I were so lucky, " the other voice muttered, then went back to Darry. "Yes, tell me where you live and I'll bring him home – right now!"

Darry gave the voice on the other end what he wanted then hung up and waited.

He heard a car pull up. Engine made a smoother sound than any of the cars in the neighborhood or your typical soc Mustang or Corvair.

Darry looked over at Soda. "What is that?"

"Not sure. Doesn't sound like most of the cars people drive around here." Sodapop shrugged. "Cadillac maybe. "

Car door opened. Followed by another car door.

"We're here Mr. Sheldon. "

"_Dr. _Sheldon."

"Of course. "

There was shuffling. The gate opened, then closed. Two sets of footsteps walking up.

Darry wondered if the driver opened the gates for them as well.

"Your house?"

"Yeah, I think so. Whoa." He heard Ponyboy's voice respond punctuating the statement with a giggle.

The door opened and Ponyboy walked in followed by a gentleman in a lab coat with long dark hair. The gentleman looked a little uncomfortable as Ponyboy introduced his brothers.

"Guys, this is Dr. Sheldon." He motioned to Greg with his hand as if he were presenting a prize from The Price is Right. Then did the same motion toward Darry and Sodapop "Dr. Sheldon, these are my brothers. The blond one over there is Sodapop. He loves me. He's a great guy. The grumpy one on the right is Darry." Ponyboy walked toward Darry and looked him in the eye. "He's the one that hates me. Can't stand me. Would put me in a boy's home if he could."

Darry could feel himself stiffen.

_He's alive. He's alive._ He repeated over and over in his head.

Pony then stood up on his tiptoes and put his face close to Darry's.

"Gonna hit me again…..Darry?"

Before Darry could respond Soda jumped in.

"Pony!" he said. "let's just get to bed, huh? Please?"

"Sure Soda, " he said keeping his eyes on Darry, a mischievous grin formed on his lips. "Good night Darry."

Darry watched as Ponyboy backed away from him, turned and followed Soda into their bedroom. Soda shot Darry a look that implored him to not react no matter how much Ponyboy was begging for it. Darry knew why. They thought they lost him when he ran out earlier. God knew he didn't want to do anything to set Ponyboy off and running again.

After the bedroom door closed he let out a sigh.

"What the hell has gotten into that boy?"

"If he's anything like my brother I would say Johnny Walker."

Darry blinked in surprise. He forgot the skinny guy in the lab coat was still there. Dr. Sheldon.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." He muttered. "Nothing at all."

Darry squinted at the strange gentleman before him. He was looking around the house as if he were taking mental notes.

Even though Darry was beyond exhausted, he still had a few questions.

His brother ran off three hours ago.

He came back drunk and his clothes were damp.

It hadn't rained.

What happened between points A and B?

And how is this guy so awake. He a freakin' vampire or something?

Though that last question didn't bother him so much in the whole scheme of things.

"I'm sorry, " he said scratching his head. " When you called you said you found my brother on your property?"

"My backyard to be exact." He responded looking down at Darry. "It leads out to a patch of woods. For as long as I can remember kids have been known to congregate there." He paused for a bit. "So to speak."

"Soc's?"

"Juvenile Delinquents, " Greg drawled. "Though I would also find the occasional victim of their treachery back there as well. I believe this was the more likely scenario in your brother's case."

Darry sighed. Of course he was jumped. Again.

"Kid just turned fourteen and he's been jumped twice this week." Darry said shaking his head. "They seem to go after him more and more. I don't get it."

"Just turned fourteen?" Greg cocked his brow. "Funny. I thought he told me he was in high school."

"He is." Darry said dully. "Skipped a grade."

"I see, " Greg noted. "So, if I were to guess, he's in a lot of classes and activities with people on my side of town."

"Yeah."

"Could say he's almost assimilated with them."

"I guess."

"I believe it was Freud who had a theory about the Uncanny."

"What now?" Darry squinted. It was way too late (or early?) for this.

"To sum up, your brother is smart enough to be one of them. They see him everyday. He has become similar enough in nature that it exceeds their comfort level. Their ultimate reaction is to reject. " he explained, then a grimace formed on his face, "And if I remember how things in this little town work correctly that which its people reject, its people will attempt to destroy."

Darry just looked at him. He was too tired for this.

Greg cleared his throat and regained his previously detached nature.

"I looked Ponyboy over in my office before we came here. Aside from some bumps and bruises he appears fine. As for the matter of being intoxicated it is quite possible those who accosted him forced him to drink as well. Their victims can't fight back as well if they're drunk. It's been known to happen unfortunately. "

With that he stood up, reached in his lab coat pocket, pulled out a business card.

"If he still acts strange or any health issue comes up, please call me."

"Thank you. "Darry said furrowing his brow.

"Oh, " Greg surveyed the place again. "And money should not be a concern."

"Okay, " Darry responded slowly. Not sure if he should be insulted.

"I'll show myself out. Good day."

Greg walked out the door.

Leaving a confused yet somewhat satisfied Darry.

Darry noticed the sunrise.

Thank God it was Sunday.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: warning for language and suicide references in this chapter**

Bob woke up in his room. It was a large room. King size bed with canopy. Fireplace in the corner. Red velvet bedroom curtains. Creepy older brother sitting at the foot of the bed reading the paper.

He nearly jumped three feet.

"Jesus Greg."

"Just checking on you little brother. " Greg said looking up from his paper. "Running out of the lab after I took a pint of blood from you. Tsk tsk. I put an IV in you earlier to rehydrate you. Unfortunately it must have sobered you up a bit as well. I do apologize."

Bob just glowered at him.

"Learned more about our little friend after Parsons and I dropped him off at home." Greg continued. "Did you know he skipped a grade?"

Bob was a little surprised. And he felt a little sick. He sure as hell was not going to let Greg know that, though.

"Yes, it's true, " Greg beamed "By all rights you didn't kill a high school boy. You killed a junior high school boy."

"I mean, people didn't like me because of the rumors that I killed pets but, oh boy." Greg giggled.

Bob glowered. Greg continued.

"How will you and your friends top that I wonder." Greg said wistfully. The squealed. "Oh! I got it! You're going to build a candy house in the backyard and throw kindergarteners in the oven!"

"Get out Greg!" Bob yelled as he grabbed an empty flask from the night table and threw it at his head. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Greg dodged it and it hit the wall. He looked at where it landed, then gave Bob a wistful grin.

"You have mom's arm."

He pushed himself off the bed and let out a small titter.

"Lucky for me I have Dad's ability to duck."

He walked out of Bob's room and closed the door. Bob grabbed the nearest object and flung that at the door. Parts of it shattered. Parts of it fell to the ground.

He sighed and put his head in his hands. Clutched his thick black hair with his fingers. He wondered how things got so out of hand.

Agh! Before he went any further he was going to need a cigarette.

He reached over to the night table and picked up his cigarette case and lighter. No matter how Saturday night went those two items were always there Sunday morning. Parsons saw to that.

He popped open the case and popped a cigarette into his mouth. He lit it and took a drag.

Most of the night before was a blur. It was Saturday night. Started drinking early. Found he drank more since Frankenstein came home. Much more. Cherry didn't like it. Good for her. She didn't even know about Frankenstein. Bob didn't want her to know.

Let's see. He was drunk. She was pissed. So pissed that she allowed herself to walk home with a bunch of greasers.

Though in the end she went home with him. He knew she would. She didn't like fights. He also knew that her family didn't like to be the subject of gossip or scandal. And if news got out about this they would be. Whatever went on Saturday night was an irresistible topic for conversation at brunch in the country club on Sunday morning.

Evening went on. Bob remembered less. Somehow they got the girls home. Found the two greaser kids in the park and attempted to teach them a lesson in humility.

All of which lead to the Ponyboy Curtis kid lying cold and dead on the examination table.

He was fourteen years old, huh?

It made him think of another fourteen-year-old kid he had found in a similar state.

He wasn't dead but he was pretty damn close.

He and Randy Adderson had been tossing a football back and forth in the yard. They were both eight years old at the time. They were volleying back and forth when Randy threw a real long one. It was so long it sailed right into the woods.

"Wow Randy!" Bob laughed.

"You missed it. You gotta go in and get it." Randy beamed.

Bob looked into the thick patch of woods and sighed.

"Alright. Be right back."

He walked in. The leaves were in such a thick layer on the forest floor that instead of walking on them his feet shuffled through them.

_Where is that stupid ball?_ he thought.

He looked and saw something in the corner of his eye. It wasn't the football.

He had no idea what it was.

He walked over to take a closer look.

"Bobby, where did you go?"

He could hear Randy call behind him. He ignored him and kept walking toward what he saw.

"Bobby?"

He could hear footfalls on leaves getting louder as Randy ran up to him.

What he saw was a person lying face down. Black hair. White oxford shirt. Dark slacks. Before he turned him over he already knew who it was.

Greg.

Bob heard Randy suck in a breath.

"Bobby, is he…?"

He wasn't moving. His face was covered with bruises. His shirt covered in bloodstains and dirt.

Bob said nothing. He could only stare in disbelief.

"I'm, uh, I'm getting your mom." He heard Randy say. The sound of shuffling leaves growing fainter as he ran back to the house.

Bob watched as Greg's chest rose and fell.

OK. He's still alive.

Part of him was relieved.

He did not like Greg all that much. He was strange. People talked about him. Some people blamed him for their missing pets. The only time Greg talked to him was when he pricked him with a needle or an animal went missing from his room.

He didn't want him to die though.

Greg didn't die. Instead he was sent to a prep school far away. Massachusetts he thought.

Aside from the police patrolling the streets more and everyone's parents being a little more paranoid, life pretty much went back to normal. Except one day at recess when a kid brought up Greg. Said he was a freak. Said he was probably in a loony bin.

That was it. Bob was all over him like flies on shit. If people were talking about Greg like this, what were they saying about him? He was still his brother. He could not get away with that. He started whaling on his face left and right. The kid tried to get away but Bob wouldn't let him. This felt way too good.

Bob pulled him back by his neck and slammed him to the ground.

Next thing he knew two teachers were holding him back and he was escorted to the principal's office.

Dad was called in. Mom had not been feeling well. Mom had not been feeling well for a while.

Dad and the principal had a talk while Bob sat outside the office.

Ultimately, nothing happened to Bob.

That kid never came back to school. Nobody brought up Greg again.

Rumor had it that it must have been a group of greasers that nearly beat Greg to death. Had to be. It couldn't be anyone on this side of town. That was preposterous to even suggest.

Well, if they weren't above ganging up on a defenseless kid, neither was he.

Bob was pulled back into the present by a knock on his door.

"Mr. Sheldon?"

"Yes, " he responded putting out his cigarette.

"Cherry Valance on the phone for you sir."

Agh. Cherry. Not now. At least not sober.

"Take a message Parsons."

"As you wish sir."

Bob picked up his cigarette case and lighter and got out of bed. He slipped on the rubber soled bedroom slippers parked next to the bed then the robe hanging on one of the bedposts and walked to the door. Something crunched under his feet.

He looked down and saw Cherry's sophomore year photo under the smashed remains of its frame.

"Oh no, " he sighed.

He took the picture with him as he walked to the parlor.

The parlor was decorated in a red and gold theme. Very modern. Mom had redone everything in a mod theme before she had left. This was the room that had everything you needed in life.

Pool table

TV

Bar

Bob went behind the bar, scooped ice cubes from the ice bucket (always ice cubes in the ice bucket. Thank you again Parsons) and put them in a highball glass. He then filled the glass with Johnny Walker Blue. No one else was here to drink the good stuff. He may as well.

He looked down at Cherry's picture.

Wondered if she knew anything about last night.

Greg was probably right about one thing. One of the guys had to have said something by now.

That was the thing with their group. When push came to shove they'd turn on each other like a pack of rabid dogs.

_Every man for himself, _Bob did a small toast, then sipped his scotch.

What was worse was what his friends didn't know.

Not only did he kill the kid, he turned him over to his brother.

It seemed like a good idea. Greg had gone to medical school. He was like a doctor. He would get the kid breathing. No police would be involved. They could go on like nothing happened.

That didn't happen.

What did happen was too bizarre for words.

He looked down at her picture again.

He gulped down his drink, then poured himself another. He wasn't numb enough to call her yet.

He was going to do what should have been done months ago.

How could he do it? Didn't he love her?

Feh, what the hell is love?

She was too good for him. He knew that. Heh, she probably knew that too.

He felt the sting behind his eyes dissipate as the scotch did its magic. Ah. Good stuff.

He took another sip.

OK. Now he was ready to talk to her.

"Parsons!" he yelled into the intercom as he pushed the call button.

"Yes sir."

"Phone!"

He released the button. Oops. Guess he didn't need to yell.

"There's one on the bar sir. Right next to the intercom."

He looked and saw a red cylindrical object next to the intercom. There was a dial on it. Whaddya know?

"Thank you Parsons." Scotch and the stupid looking phone were helping his mood already.

"Doing anything next Saturday night?"

"I'll check my calendar sir."

Bob laughed and let go of the intercom button.

He picked up the receiver, which was part of this round sculpture thing, looked at it for a second, shrugged, and then dialed.

"Hello?" Bob heard Cherry's voice inquire.

Literally waiting by the phone for his call. Under different circumstances he would be so flattered.

"Hello Cherry."

"Bob!" Cherry jumped. "Oh my God! Where have you been?"

"Doing what I always do on a Sunday morning, " he giggled. "Sleepin' off Saturday night."

"It's Sunday afternoon Bob." She said with a hint of anger. He was drunk and she knew it. 'Still drunk from last night I see."

"Oh no baby, " he said taking a sip from his glass. "I was sober a little bit earlier, then I had a drink, then I wasn't sober anymore."

"Bob, " Cherry ignored his rambling. "What is going on? Randy asked to borrow Marcia's car so he could take a drive. No one else is home or coming to the phone."

"Hmmm." He responded.

He heard a loud sigh on her end.

"I don't know Cherry, " he tried his earnest voice which never sounded right when he was drunk. " I really don't remember."

"You never do Bob, " She sighed.

They were both silent for a beat.

"You didn't, " she said slowly. "do anything to those boys did you?"

_Wouldn't you like to know? Why do you give a shit?_

"You mean those greasers, Cherry?" he felt his blood pressure rise.

"Bob I just-"

"No! Tell me Cherry! You want to know if I did something to one of your new little friends from last night, don't you?"

"What? What friends?"

"Oh, you don't think I know!" He was screaming into the phone. Panting at every pause. "I saw the way that kid was looking at you last night. You want him Cherry? That why you're askin-"

"NO!"

"Know what?" You can have him BITCH!"

With that he slammed down the receiver, pulled the cord out of the wall and threw it across the room.

"Hope you're into necrophilia Cherry, " he muttered.

That went well.

He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Talk about making a mess even worse.

_Don't think she'll be calling back_, he thought.

He hoped she wouldn't.

He took a cigarette out of the case and put it in his mouth. He picked up his lighter, drink and her picture and walked over to the fireplace. House had an awful lot of fireplaces for being in a climate where the coldest it generally got was 45 degrees. Mom and Dad must have really liked fireplaces.

He lit the cigarette. Saw no way out of this. What was going on? What was going to happen next?

He picked up Cherry's picture, opened the lighter and flicked. He lit the corner, watched it begin to burn, and then placed it in the fireplace.

As he watched her image burn he thought of a final solution. Mom had a supply of sleeping pills in the bathroom cabinet. She must have left them there. Forgot about them even.

Could just take them.

Sleeping pills with Johnny Walker Blue chaser.

Not a bad way to go.

His train of thought interrupted by an image of Ponyboy Curtis lying cold and dead on the exam table when his eyes popped open.

_Oh that's right, _he tittered bitterly as he took a drink.

Nothing rests in peace in Dr. Sheldon's House of Horrors.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Debating on this chapter. Does it help things along? Grind things to a halt? Please let me know. I can take it.**

**Again I do not own The Outsiders or REanimator**

Agnes Higgins rolled out of bed and walked into her kitchen. She lit a cigarette and looked out the window.

Husband still in bed.

Kids went out to play.

Nice quiet morning. Had to admit it was quieter down here than up in New York. A part of her missed the noise. If only just a little.

"Mom!" she heard a door slam.

She blinked. So much for quiet.

"MOM!"

"Yes, " she said turning to her nine-year-old daughter Carrie.

"Suzie found something in the park, " she panted as she grabbed her mom's arm. So much for little girls being gentle flowers. This kid was going to grow up to be a teamster! "You gotta see this!"

'Stop shouting, " Agnes said as she was being pulled out the door. "You'll wake your father."

"Why is he still asleep?"

"He spent some time with your Uncle Buck last night."

"When do we get to visit Uncle Buck at night?"

"Sometime between the twelfth of never and over my dead body." She heard herself mutter.

"What?" Suzie stopped and scrunched her face.

"Never mind, " Agnes said, then smiled. "So what do you have to show me?"

"Oh yeah, " Suzie pushed the screen door open with the grace of an elephant. When they got out to the porch she let out a gasp.

Stuffed in her daughter's oversized Radio Flyer wagon, arms folded in, legs dangling, was a boy of about fifteen that looked like he had the crap beaten out of him. He was flanked by twelve-year-old Jenny in the back and five-year-old Suzie in the front.

"Can we keep him Mommy?" her five-year-old asked hopefully.

"It'd be great, " Carrie chimed in. "I always wanted a brother!"

"No, " Agnes said. She was more prepared for when they brought home a stray dog rather than a person but the same speech could still apply. "He probably belongs to someone else. We should find out who that is first."

"I've seen him around that house with all the boys." The twelve-year-old offered.

_We've only been in town for a month. What house with all the boys?_ Agnes wondered_. What does my twelve-year-old know about the house with all the boys?_

She looked down at Jenny who just gave a sheepish smile.

"Jenny likes the one that works in the gas station. She thinks he's dreamy." Carrie said fluttering her eyeballs. Jenny went to hit her when Agnes glared, causing Jenny to freeze.

Meanwhile there was a boy in Suzie's wagon in dire need of medical attention.

She would call the cops but they were not too reliable on this side of town. That she learned pretty fast.

"Okay girls," Agnes began, channeling her inner Girl Scout leader. " Jenny, help me get this kid into the station wagon. I'm gonna drive him to the hospital and you go to the house with the boys in it and let them know where he is."

Jenny's face lit up.

_She likes this too much. Send the human tape recorder._

"Carrie, you go with her."

Jenny's face clouded over as Carrie beamed.

She looked back down at the boy in the wagon.

_Jesus_, she thought. _And they talk about New York._


	7. Chapter 7

"_Curtis, I see you've gone full time, " Mrs. Jones, the head bookkeeper stated. Her eyebrows went up as if to ask why._

"_Yes, " Darry explained. "My parents died in a car accident. I'm taking care of my brothers now."_

"_Mmmm. They're teenagers now, right?"_

"_Yeah."_

_An evil chuckle escaped her lips as she wheeled around and went back to what she was typing._

This scene played back in his mind as Darry woke up to an unusual light coming through the window.

_What the_, he thought. _Oh yeah, it's the afternoon. When was the last time I woke up in the afternoon?_

He rolled over and almost jumped out of bed.

Ponyboy was sitting at his desk chair, holding his knees to his chest, his chin on top, staring at Darry.

"Jeez, Ponyboy, nearly scared me to death, " Darry said as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

"Sorry."

Darry noticed the house was quiet. Too quiet.

"Where is everybody?"

"The neighbors' kids stopped by and told us their mom took Johnny to the hospital." Ponyboy said biting his nails. "They said he was in bad shape when they found him in the park. Thought he lived here so they came here to tell us."

"Better off, " Darry said as he sat up. "If they tried to call his parents they'd probably still be trying."

"So that's where everybody went. " Ponyboy sighed as Darry got up and walked to his dresser, pulling out his clothes for the day, whatever was left of it. "We let you sleep because Soda said you didn't get any at all last night. Especially after you hit me. He was telling me you felt really bad about it."

"Yeah, Ponyboy, about that…"

Ponyboy looked up expectantly.

"I'm real sorry. I know, sorry probably doesn't begin to cover it.."

"You hit me. No one in our family ever hit me!"

"I know." Darry winced running his hand through his hair, "I know. If I could take it back I would. I will never do it again. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to."

Ponyboy had a look on his face that, if Darry didn't know an better, he would think he was enjoying this.

"This is different, " Ponyboy smirked. "You're telling me you didn't mean to do something. "

"Yes, " Darry said looking away.

"Alright, Alright, " Ponyboy grinned. "I forgive you."

"Don't get too cocky, though." Darry looked at him and narrowed his eyes.

"Never, " Ponyboy responded with a wide-eyed innocent look that felt much more familiar to Darry.

"It's just, " Darry said as he put clothes on over the T-shirt and boxers he wore the night before. Day was more than half over anyway. "Johnny was jumped, pretty badly, not too long ago. You were jumped the night before. The last time, " he took a breath and swallowed as he looked at his baby brother, "The last time I stayed up waitin' for someone to come home Ponyboy, they didn't."

Ponyboy cast his eyes to the ground. He was talking about the night their parents died.

_Then you come back and tell me you fell asleep in the lot! Idiot!_

That's what Darry thought.

Was not what he said.

Discussion was over. On to something else. Besides, he had another question on his mind.

"How come you're not at the hospital with everybody?"

Ponyboy kept his eyes on the floor. He said nothing.

"Ponyboy?"

Ponyboy stood up and looked out the window.

"Johnny was found under some bushes in the park by a couple of little girls. One of them thought he was dead."

Darry nodded for him to go on.

"Steve kinda muttered something about how lucky I was."

"Mm-hmm" Darry nodded seeing where this was going. If there was a way to get under Ponyboy's skin, Steve always found it.

"So then, I'm thinking, Why was I so lucky?" he said as he continued to look out the window. "How come he could be in a coma in the hospital and I'm fine?"

"Ponyboy, it's not your fault he got jumped-"

"I was there!" He turned and met Darry's eyes, "I was with him! After I ran out last night I took him with me!"

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe he wasn't jumped by Soc's," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"What?"

"Maybe Steve's onto something. Maybe I did something. It could have been me!"

"What?"

"I don't remember anything from last night. I can't say it didn't happen!"

_Yep, there goes Ponyboy's imagination out of the gate, _Darry thought. _Kid reads way too much fiction. Time to reel him in._

"Alright, you can't say it did either, right?"

"Yeah, " he replied uncertainly as he placed his hand on his neck and winced.

"What's with your neck?" Darry asked.

"I dunno, it's kind of sore."

"Let's take a look, " Darry said wandering over to the window. He looked at Ponyboy's neck. He couldn't tell of there were bruises or just shadows from the light coming in the window.

"Can't see anything in here, " he griped. "Come on, let's take a look at you in the bathroom."

When they were in the bathroom, Darry flipped on the light. He made Ponyboy sit on the toilet seat below the vanity lights.

"Does anything else hurt? Stomach? Chest? Ribs?"

"No."

"Take your shirt off a second."

Ponyboy obeyed. Darry walked to his front. He squatted down so he was eye level.

Scar under the chin. That was from the night before.

Couple of bruises on his arm. Also probably from the night before. He looked back up at Ponyboy.

"Do you remember anything after you ran away last night?"

"After you hit me?"

_Let's just kick that dead horse. _"Yes."

"I ran to the lot to get Johnny. We walked over to the park. We were followed by a group of Soc's in a mustang. They got out of the car and went after us."

"Then what happened?"

Ponyboy looked like he was about to cry and shook his head.

"You don't remember?"

He raised his eyes and shook his head again.

Darry sighed and looked at the floor.

He remembered Ponyboy's last birthday. It was the first one without their parents. He had blown out the candles on his birthday cake when something flickered behind his eyes. It took about a minute before Soda could get his attention.

"You ok Ponyboy?"

He blinked and gave Soda a confused look.

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Pony?"

"Where's mom and dad?"

"They're…." Soda trailed off and looked at Darry.

Ponyboy looked back and forth between Darry and Soda. The rest of the gang was there but it looked like he didn't see them.

"They're gone Ponyboy." Darry said gently as he stepped toward Ponyboy. Ponyboy stepped back.

"No, " he said shaking his head. "NO!"

Everyone watched helplessly as he tore through the house. Opening every door to every room yelling for them. Soda caught him and tried to calm him down.

"Pony, Ponyboy, they're not here." He said as he stroked his hair and lowered him to the ground. It seemed to have the opposite effect as Ponyboy began to hyperventilate. Darry walked over and say by them. Ponyboy was unable to catch his breath and ultimately passed out.

Darry picked him up and carried him to bed.

Next morning, Ponyboy got up, remembered nothing, went to school.

Darry got up, remembered everything, picked up two six packs of beer after work.

Shaking his head as he brought himself back into the present, Darry stood up and walked behind Ponyboy. He took a look at the neck and shoulders and sucked in a breath.

There were two long bruises on each side of his neck, about the width of his finger. Looked like somebody tried to strangle him from the back.

He then saw a yellow liquid stream down his neck.

It was a glowing yellow liquid.

"See anything back there?"

Ah. How to answer this…

If he told Ponyboy what he really saw there would be two possible scenarios:

"Aah!"

Thud.

Ponyboy would pass out cold.

-or-

"Aah!"

Bang

And – he's off!

Ponyboy would zoom out of the house before Darry had a chance to blink. He would find him hours later. Jumped by Soc's. Again.

"Just a few nasty bruises. Should be gone in a few days."

He didn't lie. Just didn't tell him everything.

"Oh."

"Could retrace your steps from last night. Start at the park. End at that doctor's place."

"I guess," Ponyboy shrugged. "I don't even know where he is."

"Well," Darry said walking out of the bathroom toward his room as Ponyboy followed. He looked on his desk and found Dr. Sheldon's card. Complete with office address. He picked it up and flipped it over a couple of times between his fingers "Thanks to the kind doctor, now we do."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N : I do not own The Outsiders or Reanimator. **

**Typing this chapter after oral surgery and Percocet. Could be interesting**.

Ponyboy and Darry walked silently to the park. Children were playing on the swings and the merry go round. A few were hanging off the monkey bars.

Darry looked over at Ponyboy. Amidst the chaos of screaming children he looked a little lost,

"You wanna do this later?" he asked. Ponyboy squinted and shook his head.

"It's alright. " he looked over at the monkey bars. "This is where they pulled up. Chased us to the water fountain.

Pony boy walked up to the fountain. Darry walked beside him as he tried to gauge his expression. He had a haunted look. What Darry would have given to know what was going on in his head.

The water in the fountain was very still. Thing looked like it hadn't been turned on or cleaned in months.

"Anything?" Darry asked. Ponyboy just stared into the greenish water in the fountain. Did he remember something or was he trying to?

Darry did not know how long they stood there but he was beginning to get anxious. Maybe this was not such a good idea.

"Ponyboy?"

He blinked slowly in response a couple of times, then shook himself out of his stupor.

"Oh, sorry. " he grinned sheepishly.

"Did you remember something?"

Ponyboy blinked a couple of times then shrugged.

"Nothing, " he said. "Nothing at all."

He turned away and walked back in the direction of the house.

As they walked back Darry asked what Ponyboy wanted to do. If he still wanted to go back to the wooded area near Dr. Sheldon's.

_Why are you asking him that?_ Darry asked himself_. Have you considered that maybe you're all better off that he doesn't remember anything?_

_Yes, but if I don't let him go, he'll go anyway. By himself. In soc territory. May as well strap a sandwich board on him with neon lights screaming "Jump me! I'm an ass!"_

Darry also remembered his last conversation with Mrs. Jones.

"_It's my last day here Curtis so I'm going to leave you with a bit of advice._

"_I've seen those two brothers of yours around town. The cutie pie at the DX station and the quiet one that lives with his nose in a book._

"_Cutie pie's like a Labrador. He just wants everyone to be happy. He's easy._

"_The one you gotta watch is the quiet one. As he gets older he's going to pull the wool over your eyes if you're not careful. He's smart. Very smart."_

"_Really?" he responded with a grin. With Mrs. Jones it was just better to let her talk._

"_You want to keep him out of trouble?" she looked him right in the eyes and pointed at his chest. _

"_You have to be smarter."_

It wasn't easy but he was trying. He was trying.

"Darry?"

He looked over at Ponyboy. The haunted look was back in his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Ever think about dying?"

"I don't really like to, " he said looking straight ahead. They were maybe a block away from the house. "Why?"

"I don't know," Ponyboy responded. "Was just thinking about it one day."

"Yeah?"

"I think I'd be OK, " he said slowly. "I'm not really afraid of it. I think if it was my time to die I would be OK."

Darry just looked at him. The craziest things came out of Ponyboy's mouth some days. What the hell did happen last night?

They continued walking in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Don't own The Outsiders. Don't own Reanimator.**

Ponyboy's walk down memory lane turned into a drive as he, Darry, Soda, Steve and Two-Bit piled into Darry's truck.

Darry liked the idea of taking the truck for a quick getaway in case things on the west side of town got out of hand. If they couldn't make a quick getaway at least there were five of them now instead of two, which would put the odds more in their favor.

Seven would have been better but Dally refused to leave Johnny's side until he woke up.

Darry was glad they had numbers on their side because it now looked like the quick getaway was not going to happen.

Goddamn truck overheated.

Soda, Steve and Two-Bit hopped out of the back and flipped open the hood. A cloud of steam puffed out . The only thing on their side was there was no one around. The place was like a ghost town.

"Unbelievable. Right smack in the middle of Soc territory."

Darry looked over and saw a Corvair drive toward them.

"Day keeps getting better, " he grimaced.

The car stopped in front of their truck.

"Who the hell is that?" Steve snapped.

"Sure don't look like Triple A." Two-Bit observed.

"Can I help you?" The soc said as he stepped out of the car. He was being…nice?

All five of them were struck dumb.

Nobody said a thing for a minute.

Darry didn't even notice Ponyboy gingerly open the passenger side door and step out of the truck.

He did notice the Soc's eyes widen and mouth "Holy Shit."

Ponyboy walked toward him but the Soc quickly slid back into his car and took off like a bat out of hell.

Ponyboy, of course, ran after him.

"Shit!" Darry screamed and tore out of the truck.

"Ponyboy!" he screamed at, well, nobody.

The car, then Ponyboy, had taken off out of sight.

"No way he's gonna catch that car, " Steve observed.

_Really, you sure about that one Dr. Science?_ Darry mused to himself.

Before he could think Soda had already taken off after Ponyboy.

"Soda!" he heard himself yell. Soda kept running.

Darry just covered his face with his hand and did a long wipe.

"I thought I told everyone to stick together. " he muttered.

"We're still here Darry, " Two-bit answered.

"Thank you Two-Bit, " Darry said in a defeated tone between a laugh and a whimper.

"Are we your favorite brothers Darry?" Two-Bit asked with a grin.

"You actually listen to me, " Darry sighed, then turned around and went in through the passenger side of the truck. "That's how I know you're not mine."

OK. Quick plan B.

Darry opened the glove compartment. Took out a map and a switchblade.

Yes, he was going after his brother alone but he would at least have protection. The fact that he was big also didn't hurt. He slipped the switchblade into his back pocket.

"You two stay with the truck, " he looked over at Steve and Two-Bit. All this game planning made him feel a little nostalgic for his football days. He unfolded the map and drew a line on it. " If this piece of shit decides to cooperate and start you come out to get us. We should end up over here." He mapped out the route to Dr. Sheldon's office. "If I catch up with them I'm going to take them there."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"First, apparently Ponyboy was taken to or dumped in the woods behind this guy Dr. Sheldon's house and second, " Darry thinned his lips and raised his eyebrows. "I would like to ask this Dr. Sheldon a few questions."

He handed the map to Two-Bit and jogged off in the direction of his brothers.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I do not own The Outsiders or Reanimator**

**I also do not own Lawrence Welk, The Lennon Sisters, The Sound of Music or Lonely Goatherd.**

**Anime411, this chapter's for you. Mr. Skittles came back just for you.**

**Hope everyone else either likes or just wants to see how far down the rabbit hole this thing goes. May start earning the M rating here and in the next chapter. If not, let me know and I'll bring this thing down to a T.**

**Thanks to everyone who has read this far. **

Bob refilled his highball glass and plopped in front of the TV. He felt cold and nauseous. Unable to believe the past twenty-four hours.

"Bob! Bob! He's not moving!"

"Shit! Bob! He's not moving!"

"What have we done?"

"Maybe no one will notice just another dead kid from the bad side of town."

"I know him. He's in my English class."

Bob swigged again. He drowned a kid. Now he tried to drown the voices in his head.

He could hear the Lennon sisters singing "Lonely Goatherd." on the TV. Lawrence Welk on Color TV was trippy and so was the pastel Easter egg colored costumes the Lennon sisters wore.

He could not sit in a quiet house. He wasn't quite up to Batman or listening to his Beatles albums. His brain could only handle watered down yodeling from The Sound of Music. Compared to these chicks Julie Andrews was Elvis Presley! He was somewhere between laughing and crying when he heard a door close.

"Bob."

He turned toward the voice and found Randy. His face brightened.

"Randy! Great to see you!"

"Bob…"

He turned back to the TV. He wasn't sure Randy was real. He bopped along with the Lennon sisters.

"I just saw the kid we drowned last night."

"I keep seeing him too, " Bob said, still bopping. "No matter how much I drink. Oh well, I guess I'll just keep trying."

He was about to take another swig when he noticed Randy's hands on top of his own. Randy's eyes bored into his. Bob could hardly focus but Randy's glare made it hard not to.

"Can you tell me why a dead greaser is walking around our neighborhood?"

Just then, both boys heard a loud purring. They looked down and saw a black cat leaning against Randy's legs. Randy looked down and picked him up.

"Mr. Skittles?"

Bob shrugged and grinned.

"What the hell is Mr. Skittles doing here?"

Bob shrugged and Randy's expression darkened.

"Greg?"

Bob feigned innocence and shrugged again.

"Well, you look OK, " Randy muttered as he inspected his fur. He looked closer at the nape of his neck. "What is this yellow shit in your fur? Hmph, you must have gotten yourself into something you bad little kitty."

Mr. Skittles looked over at Bob and let out a low growl.

"Oh, that's just Bob, Mr. Skittles. You know Bob."

He let out another growl.

"Nana used to say animals could always sense evil, " Randy let out a small laugh. "If I didn't know any better…"

Randy looked up at Bob and placed Mr. Skittles down on the floor. Bob felt his blood turn into ice. He must have looked as bad as he felt because Randy's expression became very serious.

"What in the name of all that is holy is going on Bob?"

Bob lifted up his glass, took a drink, and looked at it.

"Randy, you don't want me to answer that."

Randy swallowed.

"Just tell me Bob."

"I said I would fix it, " Bob looked at Randy. "And I fixed it."

"What did you do Bob?" Randy asked slowly.

"I didn't know if he was alive or dead, " Bob explained. He spoke evenly as if he were trying to explain to himself as well as to Randy. "I wanted to be sure. I knew one person who could help me."

"No, " Randy moaned as he shook his head. He appeared to be afraid of the answer.

"I took him to Greg."

"Oh God, Bob!" Randy stood up and walked away, then turned back. "I remember when we were kids, when you used to tell me shit. We used to take animals from his room, or his 'lab' and set them free. Now you brought someone _to_ him-"

"I know, but, you see, " Bob started to ramble in an effort to convince Randy as well as convince himself. "Greg tried to save him but it was too late. The kid was dead. Then Greg did something and he wasn't anymore. It's all OK. We're all OK now."

"He wasn't anymore?" Randy spoke slowly as he backed away from Bob. "OK."

"I'm not crazy, Randy, " Bob said as he stood up.

"No, no Bob, " Randy said in as calm a voice as he could muster. "I didn't say you were. I, just, have to go."

"Randy.." Bob could hear the desperation eek out of his voice.

"Bob, I have to leave." Randy said as he turned to go. Bob followed close behind. "I need to get out of town for a while. Clear my head…."

Bob began to panic.

First Cherry, now Randy. He always had Randy. He was losing everybody.

Losing his whole world.

"Randy come back here!" he screamed and grabbed the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue that was next to him.

Randy looked back and began to run. Bob tackled him and whaled him on the back of the head with the bottle so hard it shattered. Randy's head and Bob's hands were covered in glass, blood and scotch.

"Randy?" he implored quietly.

Nothing could be heard but Lawrence Welk telling everybody to have a good night.

"Randy?" he cried.

"Shit! Randy!" he shrieked as he let the tears stream out.

He sobbed and let out more groans and cries. He saw the blood and glass on his hands and wiped them on the red robe. The red hid the blood well.

He wiped his eyes and nose and pulled himself together.

"Don't worry buddy, " he said as he hitched his hands under Randy and attempted to drag him to Greg's lab. "Greg will get you back for me. He has to."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I do not own the Outsiders or Reanimator**

**Here it is. The reason I made this M. Warning. No one is safe.**

**Again, if it's tamer than I think, can make this thing a T. What do you all think?**

As Bob dragged Randy's body to the lab, leaving a trail of blood behind, he heard banging and crashing.

Thud.

Bang.

It got louder as he got closer to the lab.

He reluctantly left Randy on the ground as he ran outside to find Ponyboy being pulled off what was left of Randy's mustang by his brothers. The windows were shattered. The doors had been smashed. The driver's side mirror had been torn off. A tire iron had been left on the ground.

Their eyes met.

Ponyboy did not move.

Darry and Soda looked at each other.

Ponyboy twitched.

Bob and Ponyboy stared each other down.

Gray green eyes against Black onyx.

_The little bastard knows_, Bob thought_. He knows and he came back for me. He can't get me if I rip him apart first!_

With a wild gleam in his eye, Bob was about to run over and tear him apart when he felt something pinning his arms back. He looked down to find the arms holding him back encased in white lab coat sleeves. Greg.

"Let me go, Frankenstein!"

He could hear Greg introduce him as his little brother as he dragged him inside.

Once they were all inside, before Soda and Darry knew what was happening, Ponyboy broke free from their grip and ran after Bob.

Ponyboy pulled Bob away from Greg in a blind rage. Ponyboy may have been undead but Bob had insanity and self-preservation on his side. He threw Pony across the room and Ponyboy's head smacked into a corner of a bookshelf. He slid to the floor. Blood oozed out the back of his head.

"NOT THE HEAD YOU ASSHOLE!" Greg shrieked.

Soda ran over to Ponyboy. Darry was about to retaliate on Bob when he saw that Greg was already on top of him.

Darry heard Soda scream as he held Ponyboy back. Ponyboy' eyes were wild as he tried to rip Soda's head off.

Darry pulled Ponyboy off Soda and held him down. He looked down and saw his eyes were wild. No longer his brother. More like a wild animal. Whatever humanity had been in them before was now gone and replaced by a mindless killer. His brother was gone.

Darry held him down and Ponyboy tried to reach up and grip his throat. Darry placed his knee on Ponyboy's chest and reached into his back pocket for the switchblade. He turned Ponyboy's head to the side.

"Darry! NO!"

Forcing himself to ignore Soda's scream, he plunged the blade in the back if the neck. Where that Godforsaken yellow shit eked out earlier. Where it now sprayed out full blast like a fire hose.

Soda didn't move. He only looked at Darry in disbelief.

Darry looked down at his baby brother. Ponyboy's eyes went from wild to placid. He thought he heard a relieved sigh as Ponyboy's eyes rolled up and his lids gently closed.

Darry rolled off of Ponyboy and cradled his lifeless form in his arms. All he wanted to do was die as well. Something had to be taken care of first. Make that somebody.

He looked up at Bob and Greg who were engaged in their own battle.

He did not know who to go after first.

He decided to watch and wait.

He knew the right decision would be made for him.

Bob head butted Greg and threw him to the floor. He ran to the fire hatchet case, broke the glass with his elbow and snatched the ax.

"What the hell are you doing?" Greg screamed.

"Ever since you came back everything in my life has turned to shit!" Bob yelled, then let out a mad laugh. "Now I'm going to do the same thing to everything in yours!"

Bob swung the ax like a baseball bat across shelves of beakers and test tubes. He chopped open cages of cats, cats springing free across the lab as he went.

Bob was about to after a giant beaker of glow in the dark goo when Greg tackled him. The two wrestled on the ground, pulling at the ax.

Greg pulled it out of Bob's hands and slammed it down. Bob rolled out of its path as it hit the ground. They looked like they were in one of those Tom and Jerry cartoons Two-Bit loved so much.

Bob got up, ran into a room and locked the door. Greg ran after him. He tried to pull open the door but it didn't move. He banged on the door.

"Come out Bob!"

"I'll get the police!"

"In your state they'll happily take you to see mom at Aunt Sylvia's. In Sunrise Acres Asylum!"

"They'll put you in there too once I tell them what you did to that dead kid!"

"They'll do worse shit to you when they find out you're the one that killed him!"

Pump.

Click.

Boom!

Bob blasted his way out.

Greg backed away.

"Bob…."

"Maybe I feel too much Greg," Bob said in a wistful tone, which was a stark contrast to the shotgun he was holding and shooting.

Boom!

"Got to control my temper."

Boom!

"Use my fucking head. "

Boom! Splat!

Bob hit Greg with a shotgun shell causing pieces of Greg to fly everywhere.

He kept shooting at the pieces.

Pumping and shooting.

Pumping and shooting.

Then silence.

"Missed a spot, " he heard Greg's wistful voice sing above the debris. Bob looked down and saw Greg's head grinning up at him from the floor. Bob felt himself shake.

"No, " he quivered.

"I'm sorry, " Greg sing-songed. "I should have said Ponyboy Curtis was _my _first human subject."

"No, " Bob mouthed. He felt his face crumple and his eyes blur with tears. He pumped the gun and shot, only to find no more shots left. The tears rolled freely down his cheeks and he sniffed and sobbed.

Greg seemed to read Bob's mind as his grin parted into a happy titter.

What was Dad doing when he went away all those days at a time?

"NO!" Bob shrieked as he turned the gun upside down and pummeled Greg's head. He felt the blood spray into his face as he pummeled until the laughing stopped. Until all that was left was a pile of red liquid and goo. Red liquid and goo mixed with neon yellow goo.

When he was done, Bob let himself fall into a sitting position, not taking his eyes off what was once his brother.

Darry surveyed the scene.

Ponyboy lay limp in his arms.

Soda was in shock and dismay.

Bob's blood spattered face just looked blank. Robert Sheldon had mentally left the building.

Holy Crap. There was no need for a rumble to settle this. Darry had been told things were rough all over. Until he saw this he never would have believed it.

Darry stood up with his baby brother in his arms. With a quiet dignity he walked out of the lab.

Soda, his face frozen in disbelief, followed close behind.


	12. Epilogue

**A/N I do not own the Outsiders or Reanimator.**

**Epilogue. Debating whether this adds something or if I should take out.**

Darry sat in the main lounge feeling more lucid than he had in a while.

Bits and pieces of that night came back to him.

After he had to kill one brother to save another. After he had to terminate the killing machine that took over, he remembered holding his brother's blood soaked body. Looking at his face, when all was said and done, he looked like he was sleeping. Peacefully sleeping.

He remembered carrying Ponyboy to the truck. Steve and Two-bit had managed to get it started. Soda hopped in the back, with Two-bit as Steve stayed in the driver seat as Darry sat in the passenger seat, Ponyboy in his lap.

On the ride back he told himself this was all his fault. All of it. He had failed them.

He had to take his switchblade and plunge it into the back of Ponyboy's neck.

He had to make Ponyboy run away.

He had to hit Ponyboy.

He started this. He started all of this.

When they got back to the house, he carried Ponyboy's body back to the room he and Soda shared.

That's when the floodgates opened. A sob, and wail came out of him that he would have sworn did not belong to a human. Much less a man.

He was sorry. He was so sorry. But it did not matter. None of it mattered anymore.

He fell asleep with Ponyboy's body in his arms that night.

He was awakened by Sodapop that morning. Soda was gently trying to explain that the coroner needed to take Ponyboy away.

"No."

"Darry..."

"No, I'm not letting you have him. I couldn't protect him before, " He whimpered holding Ponyboy's limp body tighter.

"Darry, honey, "

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM US!"

Then he felt something stick in his arm. He tried to hold onto Ponyboy but he felt himself getting weaker. He was losing his grip.

He looked up at Soda feeling betrayed.

Only a twisted cry could escape him before – nothing.

Darry woke up and found himself in a bed at Sunrise Acres Asylum.

Not sure how long he had been there now.

He measured time in Soda visits.

No one else in the gang came to visit. Hopefully it was because they had no idea he was here. Hopefully.

Soda had come to visit everyday.

Then not everyday.

One day Soda told him he had to go away for a while. He couldn't exactly tell him why. Or maybe he just didn't want to tell him why. Who knew?

After that time had stood still. Everyday was the same.

Whatever stuff they gave him. Whatever they stuck in him. Whatever pills they gave him to swallow. Whatever they took out of him every so often made it not so bad.

Not great but not so bad.

Darry took his usual seat by the window as he saw the sun was going down. He took out a cigarette, some brand Pony used to smoke, and lit up.

All those years he told Pony those things would kill him, now here he was. He liked the smell now. It was like his baby brother was still around.

As he looked around he saw one familiar face.

He knew those eyes.

Eyes that were full of fear as Ponyboy had lunged for him.

"Come out Bob!"

Pump. Click. Boom!

Eyes that looked more than half crazed at the pieces of that doctor guy he had blown away with a shotgun. And pummeled with a shotgun butt.

Ah yes. Bob.

Eyes that now gazed upon him in dull surprise as he walked over and took a seat catty corner to Darry.

They were both in the same place all this time yet this was the first time they had seen each other since that night.

Bob reached in the pocket of his institutional beige robe, took out a cigarette and lit it.

"Wonder how long they've tried to keep us apart."

Darry just glanced at him, then looked out the window.

"Wonder if anyone knows we're together. Did someone mess up or do they figure we just don't care anymore. Has been two years."

Darry just continued to smoke.

"A greaser and a soc in the same place. Courtesy of Dad of course. This is where Dr. Sheldon hides all his mistakes. Not bad huh?"

Bob just continued to ramble. It was all white noise to Darry.

"You must have type O negative blood."

There was a time he might have jumped on top of Bob and tried to strangle him right there and then.

"Greaser. Soc. In the end we're just cattle. Cattle they occasionally milk."

There was a time he might have demanded answers.

_What did you do to my baby brother?_

_Did you really try to kill him?_

_Why? WHY? He was only fourteen years old dammit!_

But he didn't.

He didn't know whether it was time or the drugs regularly flowing through his system that gave him perspective.

Or the fact that Bob was cackling. Cackling in a way that would send shivers up Vincent Price's spine.

Never mind everything else that happened. Bob's family problems aside. Bob's grisly solution to those problems.

Something happened to Ponyboy the night he ran away.

Bob had something to do with it.

Granted, God, fate, destiny, the universe, had made Bob pay in a way that Darry could not even have imagined in his worst nightmares.

Bob's culpability had nothing to do with it.

If it wasn't Bob it would have been someone else. Something else.

What Darry did know for certain was that before Bob or whatever did something to Ponyboy, Darry himself had struck first.

Darry had set the events in motion.

If he hadn't his Ponyboy hard enough to slam him against the door, he wouldn't have run out to have God knows what done to him by Bob.

Bob and that weird Dr. Sheldon guy who was his brother.

But bad people and weirdos were always out there.

Darry had signed up to take care of his brother. Protect him from all that.

Instead, he struck Ponyboy. Ponyboy ran away. Some forsaken act had occurred. Ponyboy then attacked Bob and Bob fought back. Ponyboy turned on all of them. Darry had to….

To protect one brother Darry had to kill the other.

Darry stubbed out his cigarette. He took out another and was about to light it when Bob struck a match and held it out.

He just looked at him.

Had enough time gone by?

Did it make a difference?

One a brother who failed as a guardian and ultimately had to mutilate his charge.

Offered a light by another brother who, in an act that may have been self-defense or just a long time coming, blew his brother to pieces and had to mutilate the pieces that remained.

Now they were both behind bars in the same Hell.

Hell? More like Hell's waiting room.

Darry wondered if somewhere Ponyboy was laughing. Or at least amused.

He looked Bob in the eyes, then back down and accepted the light.

Bob lit another cigarette for himself.

Darry cast a long gaze out the window as the sun set in the west.

**And that's the end. Hope everyone enjoyed. Was at least mildly amused. Possible sequel in the works.**

**Thanks for reading.**


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